


My Leaflet

by Ella_Probably



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: F/F, F/M, Leaf - Freeform, M/M, Mild Angst, Multi, The oneshot thing is called "My Leaflet", and also leaflet, and oneshots are short, because a leaflet is a short book or pamphlet, boy howdy what am I even doing with my life, got plenty of jared, got some galaxy gals, got some tree bros, more than mild honestly, you get it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:58:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ella_Probably/pseuds/Ella_Probably
Summary: Just a series of oneshots and short stories for Dear Evan Hansen (and I don't know maybe I'll sprinkle in some Be More Chill) that I made for the sole purpose of writing sad things about Jared Kleinman.Anyways I'm Victoria and yeah this is my first work since what, last November?The first chapter may or may not be loosely based on the song "Michael in the Bathroom".





	My Leaflet

           A beer in hand, I stare into the mirror. I can hear loud,  _ loud _ music blasting through the bathroom door.

_            Why the hell am I even here? _

           I could be out there, with my friends, with people I know. Talking and laughing and telling cynical yet witty jokes that Evan would never understand and just take offense to but laugh at anyway because, let’s be real, I’m his only friend.

           Was.

           Was his only friend. 

           Now he was there, just look at him. He’s vaguely popular. I did that to him, I helped him. If it wasn’t for me doing all the fucking work while he sat over my shoulder, hyperventilating or criticizing how I went about doing things. But I still did it, even though I could’ve just quit or said no or left. Because I was his only friend. Now look at me. Big fucking loser Jared Kleinman who’s been standing alone in a bathroom at some stupid party for how long now? Twenty minutes? Thirty? It’s been a while, I know that for sure. 

            I down the beer as there’s a pounding at the door. 

            Yeah, I’ll be out soon enough. Sure, sure why not. Why not go back to the stupid party with music I don’t even like with people I don’t know while the guy I gave some slight form of companionship to for years ignores me for his new girlfriend and new attention. Because that’s just the perfect idea. Go out and have the time of your life by yourself, Jared!

            Because  _ that’s _ what people should do in these situations.

            But I’m not going to do that. Because what’s the point?

             I take a long, solid look into the mirror. My glasses are too big for my face, my eyes are too far apart, and is this the beer talking, or is my head just way too circular? 

            This has to be the beer and lack of friends speaking at me. Because that’s not me. I’m not some ugly looking, self pitying loser who just hides in bathrooms at parties and expects everyone to pity me and for my friend to just come back to me because he’s all I’ve ever really had as a friend because for fucking years all I’ve ever done is talk to this guy because I can’t talk to anyone else because, well, again, big pitiful loser Jared Kleinman over here.

            Except that’s exactly who I am.  

            And I know that I’ll just end up sitting here, alone, waiting for god to come strike me dead on this bathroom floor and wait for some girl, drunk off her ass, to come in and look down at me thinking  _ Wow, looks like Kleinman had a rough night. _ And yeah, hypothetical bathroom entering drunkard, I did have a rough night.

            Because I’m just stupid fucking Jared Kleinman in the bathroom alone.

            Because I have to go home tonight and lie to my mom saying, “Ha yeah it was great. Evan was just great, we had a great time, mom.” 

            Because I’m just Jared Kleinman in the stupid fucking bathroom. 

            Because I can’t just go outside and I am too much of a coward to pretend like I’m enjoying myself or too much of a coward to ask Evan if we can just  _ leave _ .

            Because Connor fucking Murphy is out there acting like the psychopath he always is, and because of him I lost my only friend. Maybe it’s because I didn’t let Evan even call me his friend, maybe it’s because I’m just some asshole.

             I stare down at the beer can in my hand, irritated at its emptiness. 

             All I’ll be is stupid fucking Jared Kleinman.

             Jared Kleinman in the bathroom at the party.

             Jared Kleinman who never wanted to be here in the first place.

            Who wasn’t even invited.

             But who came for Evan.

             Who stayed for Evan.

             Evan, who didn’t stay for me.

             There’s a loud pounding on the door, and I can hear a girl outside shouting to be let in. She sounds wasted. Her friends are shouting with her. I try to think of some witty comeback to get them to leave, but I’m just coming up empty at this point. The pounding persists, louder now, and I run my hands through my hair as I pace through the tiny, confined space of…. God whose house even was this? I had no idea, and frankly, I don’t care to know anymore. The pounding increases ceaselessly. Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock.

             I splash water over my face and rub my eyes, looking into the mirror for one last look, one last attempt to pull myself together. I knew Evan. I knew him better than anyone knew anyone. I hated to admit that but it was true. Favorite color, first job, first kiss, favorite song, hell I even know his favorite plant. What does he know about me?

             I turn to the door, taking in deep breaths. It’s fine, Jared, You’re fine. I pull it open slowly, the knocking has stopped.   

             There’s no one at the door. 

             I look down the hall and find Evan, a wine cooler in his hand as he laughs at some joke Zoe Murphy said. He looks at me, takes a long, hard, burning look, then takes a drink, turning back to Zoe and ignoring me completely. And deep down, I feel a hole forming in the bottom of my stomach. Like this dark pit that wants to suck everything up in it forever until the world is nothing but blackness and darkness and pain and fear so that everyone knows what its like to be one hundred percent alone like I do when he pulls this kind of shit in public all of the time.

            This isn't the first time he's done it, ignoring me, pretending like I'm not there, pretending he doesn't know me. It's not like him, it's not real. And I just play along with his big stupid lies all of the time because I have to because, ah look, Evan Hansen has no friends. No, he had friends. He had me, then he got more friends and he left me behind in the dust.  So yeah, he's done this again and again. And it will never change, because that's who he is now.

           That's who Evan is. And I'm just Jared Kleinman, alone in a bathroom at a party that I never intended to go to in the first place.

            And that's just how it is.

 

 


End file.
